The glass ball wasn’t transparent any more, though. It had turned a deep inky black color. For a moment I thought about telling Seth how reckless he was being touching all the objects with his bare hands – God knew what those blasted things could do – but I refrained. I was in no position to warn him about doing stupid things.
The ball stood still in the middle of the table, ominous and foreboding, a dangerous edge to its dark orbit. I leaned in closer and squinted my eyes, focusing on its smooth black surface. Tiny specks of brilliant white floated inside, like little points of ether floating in the thick black ink. It was quite eerie, yet beautiful at the same time, little stars floating aimlessly in the dark.
I glanced up and saw Tristan staring hard at me. Before he could unleash all his anger on me I straightened up and raised my hands in surrender.
“I know what you’re going to say, Tris. I’m sorry, okay? I had no idea this whole thing would end up like this.”
“That’s just the point, Joey! You never think before you go and do stupid things. You could have ended up really hurt, or worse, for God’s sake! What made you think you could handle this all by yourself? And why didn’t you tell me this was happening? Did Vigil ask you to keep it a secret?”
“No, I just thought I didn’t need to say anything. I know how worked up you get when Vigil is involved, and you get so mad at him. And it was all going to be over soon anyway; there was no need to worry anyone about it.”
Harry was shuffling uncomfortably on the couch; he hated fights. The boys looked like they were dying to get out of there too. Tristan and I could go on for hours arguing about Vigil and they knew better than anyone not to get involved. They usually stayed quiet to avoid taking sides.
“I knew one day Vigil’s ‘job’ would put you in danger. I’ve told you to stay out of it, but you never listen! You think I say this out of jealousy, but it’s not that. This is really dangerous, Joey. You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I said I was sorry. Come on!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air.
The sound of our shouting made Vigil stir on the couch; he groaned, finally waking up. We both stopped arguing and everybody turned simultaneously in Vigil’s direction.
He blinked and winced, trying to stand up. He managed to drag himself upright after a lot of effort.
“Vigil, thank God you’re awake,” I said, moving closer to him.
“Huh … what happened?” he asked in a small voice.
“Are you all right?”
“I-I am … not sure. I feel … weird. What happened?” he asked again.
I told the whole story to him, even the part for which he’d been present and had witnessed himself. Tristan huffed the entire time.
“Okay, I remember now,” Vigil mumbled, rubbing his temples and then glancing at me with a slight scowl. “I told you not to do anything by yourself! You never listen!”
“Damn right,” Tristan muttered in a low voice. I rolled my eyes at the both of them.
“How is your leg? Is it hurt too badly?” Vigil asked, worried.
“I’m fine. Leg’s totally fine,” I said.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn? How hard was it to follow my one instruction? Just one thing: you feel that thing near your house, you call me. Was that too much to ask?” Vigil scolded.
“You mean you didn’t tell her to do this?” Tristan asked, uncrossing his arms.
“Of course not! I specifically ordered her not to do anything. This is very dangerous; she could have been really hurt,” Vigil exclaimed. “All I asked was for her: To. Just. Call. Me.”
“I DID. I did call you!” I shouted, trying to defend myself. They were both ganging up on me now, with their glares and scolding faces.
“… to call me as soon you noticed it was in the house. Did you call me as soon you noticed it was in the house, Joey?” Vigil asked, quirking an angry eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Well … like, just a few minutes after.”
They both stared at me, their faces full of disbelief.
“Oh, all right. I waited until I had it trapped. I had a plan. And it worked to perfection! Until that blasted rain and that freaking spotlight short-circuited on me …” I huffed.
Vigil sighed heavily and slumped back on the couch, really tired now. I had never seen him looking tired before.
“Something is wrong here … Why do I feel like, I don’t know, my body is heavier than normal? Is there something wrong with your gravity?” he asked, looking around the room.
“Uh … I don’t think so,” I said. “That glass ball must have done something to you. It got my leg healed too.” I lifted my jeans and showed him the smooth skin, scratch-free.
He frowned and leaned forward to have a better look. “That is odd. I remember clearly … you were hurt. There was … a lot of blood,” he mumbled.
“I got the ball and all his other things from the backyard,” Seth said, trying to be helpful.
Vigil’s eyes shifted to the glass ball on the coffee table. He sat forward and picked it up cautiously and turned it around in his fingers, focusing all his attention on it.
“It was transparent like glass before. Now it’s all black,” I offered, in case he hadn’t remembered.
He tilted his head to the side and his frown deepened, his customary move when he was concentrating. “Strange. I feel … nothing,” he muttered.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked. “It’s not dangerous any more?”
“No, I mean, I do not feel anything. It is a magical object; I am supposed to feel its magic, the amount and concentration of it inherent within. That is how I measure the level of power. But I cannot feel anything in this,” Vigil stated, placing the glass ball back on the coffee table with a frown.
“Maybe it’s a one-shot sort of thing … Maybe it’s empty now,” Harry ventured.
“Even in that case, magic leaves a residue. Like gunpowder after a shot. I should be able to feel it, something … anything …” He grunted and rubbed his temple again. “My head is … annoying me,” he stated, as if it were a malfunction of some kind.
“I’ll get you a glass of water and an aspirin, hang on,” I said, and headed for the kitchen. When I returned I handed him the glass of water while I fumbled with the aspirin bottle. Vigil reached out to me, his hands trembling slightly, and the glass slipped from his grasp, crashed to the wood floor and shattered into many pieces. He looked baffled for a second, like that had never happened to him before.
“I-I am deeply sorry. I do not know what is happening to me today …” He knelt down, picking up a bigger shard of glass from the floor. The glass slashed through his skin and he sucked in a sharp intake of air. He stared at the cut on his finger, and so did I. We all stared at his finger. Nothing happened.
“Hmm. Why are you not doing your magic healing thing, Vigil? Like you did when Nick bit your hand before?” I asked, hastily tucking the aspirin jar into my jeans pocket and reaching out to take hold of his hand.
He seemed agitated now, pulling away from me. “I-I … I am trying. It is not working. Wait, Nick who?”
“You know, the invisible cat from hell; the thing you’re trying to catch. His name is Nick,” I said. It was, now. At least for me.
He opened his mouth to say something, looked into my eyes, thought better of it, closed it, and then opened it again. He looked like a freaking fish out of water, gaping at me and holding his bleeding finger.
“Okay, I’ll get something for his cut. Be back in a minute,” Tristan said, thoroughly confused, and left the room, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.
Vigil still looked shocked, and was still holding his finger. “Huh, this is very aggravating. I think it is better that I leave now and discuss this with my colleagues. They will advise me on the best course of action I should follow, and maybe help me understand all these … unusual occurrences.” He was still glaring at his finger as if it were a piece of broken, useless equipment.
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He stood up and stayed quiet for a second. Then his eyes widened in bewilderment. He looked panicky now, sweat beading over his forehead.
“Oh,” he said, and slid down on to the couch in complete and utter shock.
“What? What’s going on? Are you feeling all right, Vigil? What is it?” I asked in a panic too.
“I-I … I can’t,” he whispered.
“What? You can’t what?”
He flickered his eyes at me. Then back at his finger. Then back at me again and then at the glass ball on the table.
“How are you feeling, Joe?” he asked slowly.
“I feel fine, Vigil. Why?”
He looked deeply into my eyes. “You feel … anxious. A little scared, and curious. A little excited. I can see it. Very clearly.”
“Huh. Okay?”
“I think … I know what is going on,” he said, mostly to himself.
“What’s going on, Vigil?”
“I cannot leave. It is not working. Nothing is working.”
“You mean you can’t beam out of here?”
“Yes. I mean no, I can’t,” he said, looking a little distressed, and stood up again, after first grabbing a piece of glass from the floor. He walked up to me and took my hand into his. “I am sorry, I need to be sure,” he said, and pressed the glass against my palm, sliding it through my skin.
Everybody gasped in surprise. Tristan, who had just come back into the room with the first aid kit, looked alarmed and called out.
“Hey! What the hell?” He ran over to me. But before he could do anything, Vigil raised my hand aloft and we all watched as the cut healed itself perfectly, just like it was supposed to have done with Vigil.
“You see? What is happening is that I do not have my powers any more,” Vigil said, letting go of my hand. “You do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Fragile
“WHAT?” Tristan and I both shouted at the same time.
The boys looked at each other, wide-eyed and scared, but still didn’t say a word.
Vigil shifted his feet uncomfortably and stared at the glass ball again. “I have heard of magic orbs like this one. Never seen one before, but I have heard about them. They hold the power to switch inherent properties of potential vessels.”
“Say that again? In English this time, please,” I asked, baffled.
He glanced up and frowned, trying to understand what I wanted. “This magic crystal ball here switched our powers,” he stated more simply.
“Oh,” was all I could manage.
“Do you mean she has your powers and you have hers?” Tristan asked.
“Yes, in a word,” Vigil answered, getting a little irritated at having to repeat himself. “She is surprised, nervous and a little anxious,” he stated, glancing quickly at me before turning to Tristan. “You are worried about her safety, angry that I have somehow put her in this situation – which, by the way, I cannot really be held accountable for since it is not entirely my fault – and you are also feeling a small amount of jealousy. I might add that this is really not the time for those types of emotions, if I may put it so bluntly, for there is a much more important matter at hand. But, yes, I can now see all your emotions by looking into your eyes, just like Joey could. It is rather disconcerting. Do you have a way to turn this off?” he asked me, rubbing his eyes.
“Huh. I haven’t figured out how to block it yet, sorry,” I said.
He sighed and wearily sat back down on the couch, while Tristan, obviously affronted, scowled but remained silent.
Okay, that explained a lot, actually – such as why my leg was all healed, and my wrist mark wasn’t hurting: I was all buffed up with Vigil’s powers.
“So … I can really do all the stuff you could do, like, really?” I asked, struggling to take it all in.
“Yes. You already have. You instinctively healed yourself.” He rubbed his head again. It looked like his headache was getting worse by the second. “Maybe we can make this thing switch us back,” he said, picking up the glass ball again. “Joey, can you touch it, just like we did at the garden?”
I nodded and touched the ball at the same time as Vigil. We all watched expectantly.
Nothing happened.
He let out a frustrated huff. “It’s not working.”
“Maybe if we did this outside. You know? Maybe the location matters,” I suggested.
“Yes. Good thinking. Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand eagerly and pulling me outside.
Boy, was he in a hurry to get his powers back or what?
Tristan and the boys followed, observing us in silence. It was a bit unnerving, the way they just stared and said nothing. I suddenly realized it was because I couldn’t read their feelings any more. It had never occurred to me how much I depended on my sight to know what I should do. Now I was left in the dark.
Vigil and I stood in the same spot in the garden, and reenacted what had happened earlier to see if that would make the magic ball work again.
Again, nothing happened.
“Come on!” I yelled, squeezing the ball hard between my fingers. “What if it is really a ‘one-shot’ deal?”
Vigil was staring at the ball, deep in concentration. “It is a possibility … but I highly doubt it. Honestly, this sort of device usually works by switching things back and forth. It is their most known particularity,” he said, thoughtfully. “It was used by your people in the old days, you know, as a teaching device, of sorts.”
“Teaching device?”
“Yes, witches used it to teach a lesson, to make the other person feel what it is like to be the other – what is the saying again? ‘To walk a mile in someone’s shoes’? Something like that.” He leaned his face closer to the ball, squinting his eyes. “It should have a trigger … some key to make it work again,” he mumbled to himself. “We need to find out what it is.”
“Hey, maybe you could ask your gray-hooded pals to help us out,” Josh suggested.
“Yeah, maybe they can put everything back in its place? It’s their job, right, to fix things?” I asked as we went back inside and made our way to the couch again.
Vigil wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Well, I do not think I will be able to—”
“What? You think they won’t help us? They have to. It’s their job!”
“No … I … There is no way to contact them. You have my powers now and you do not know how to call for them. Also, they have been … strongly advised not to come near your planet,” he confessed, looking embarrassed.
“Strongly advised?”
“I … prohibited them. I did not like them getting involved in my business and following me here. I wanted them to stay away. Earth is now my territory; they are not allowed here. They cannot help us.”
“Oh, fudgesicles,” I groaned.
All of us sat in silence, deep in thought, trying to find a way out of this.
Vigil leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “And now I am stuck in this human form. My eyelids feel heavy, my body aches everywhere, I can’t think straight,” he whispered in despair. “I never knew being human was this awful …”
“You mean by switching powers you are human now?” Tristan asked, startled.
“Yes, I now have all of Joey’s powers, in essence, and that means having her humanity as well. She, on the other hand, has mine, making her temporarily a Gray Hooded One. We need to figure out a way to switch this back quickly. It is imperative that she does not stay in this state for long. Things can become … unstable.” Vigil closed his eyes tiredly. “I am sorry, it is really hard to think with my head hurting like this …”
“Okay. Let’s take a break, guys,” I suggested, standing up. “Come on, Vigil, we’ll get you cleaned up,” I said, grabbing the first aid kit Tristan had left on the table and pulling out antiseptic and Band-Aids. Then I dug into my pocket for the bottle of aspirin. “And take these; they’ll make your head feel better.” I handed him a couple of tablets and watched as he st
ared at them suspiciously before abruptly popping them into his mouth. I nodded in satisfaction. “Let’s all get some rest and we can think about this tomorrow, okay?”
Everybody shuffled off to their rooms, looking worried and tired. I took Vigil to my bedroom so he could sleep there for the rest of the night, and then I went to Tristan’s room. He was already lying in bed, deep in thought, by the time I wriggled underneath the sheets.
“I was thinking about what to do,” he began, his voice low and cautious. “We have to go see Celeste tomorrow, Joe.”
Oh, God! And I thought the night couldn’t get any worse.
“She might be the only one who can help us,” he continued. “So you have to suck it up and go see her. And be nice while we’re there!”
“I am always nice. She’s the one who always provokes me,” I muttered under my breath.
“We need her help, Joey. In fact, you are in this mess right now because you didn’t ask for help when you needed it.”
“Fine,” I huffed, and turned my back on him.
I hated to admit it, but Tristan was right. Celeste could get us out of this mess, so I really needed to do as he suggested: suck it up and ask for her help.
Just. Freaking. Great.
Celeste Harker. The eldest of the Harkers – Celeste, Arice and Luna Harker – the witchy sisters. They knew pretty much everything there was to know about magic, spells, curses and incantations, all sorts; if magic was involved, they knew all about it. Especially Celeste, Miss Smarty Pants.
God. This girl irritated the living hell out of me.
Tristan said we were both too stubborn, and that’s why we fought so much all the bloody time. I liked to think it was because she was a bossy, wise-ass-know-it-all, always-had-to-have-her-own-way type of person.
I couldn’t see any relation to me whatsoever.
Celeste was pale, blonde and petite, and looked like a delicate snow princess. But once you got to know her, you quickly realized she was not as fragile as she appeared. She was strong-minded, bad-tempered and old-mannered for her twenty-five years of age. Celeste studied all types of magic and was like a living human-encyclopedia of the occult.
The Lost Girl Page 11
